


All You Ever Wanted Right There in Front of You

by charleybradburies



Series: Soulmates in Burning Red [3]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anniversary, Arguing, Brotherly Love, Conflict Resolution, Cultural References, Dancing, Declarations Of Love, Dialogue Heavy, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fights, Fluff and Angst, Game of Thrones References, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, References to Canon, Relationship Discussions, Slow Dancing, Song Lyrics, Team as Family, Undercover, Undercover as Married, Undercover as a Couple, Wedding Planning, Wedding Rings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 05:27:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2055393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charleybradburies/pseuds/charleybradburies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Ziva and Tony are idiots even more in love than they thought possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All You Ever Wanted Right There in Front of You

_**Wednesday, ~0910** _

Tony rubs his hand over his head, looking at himself oddly in the mirror above the bathroom sink.

“I can’t believe you convinced me to let Abby shave my head,” he whines, and Ziva comes up behind him, handing him his earwig as she puts in her own.

“You are a Marine. You actually have to look the part, darling,” she says, resting her chin on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around him. “Besides, I like it. It makes you look more mature. Although, perhaps, that is why you do not like it.”

He rolls his eyes, and she kisses him on the cheek.

“Really, guys? Literally no one is observing you right now. You don’t have to act so-” Tim grumbles, but Gibbs interrupts.

“Married?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, they’re going to need to seem natural. Mark and Dolly Indish have been married for almost five years.”

“Almost?” asks Tony.

“Anniversary’s in three days.”

“I see.”

“Internet history indicates they were planning on renewing their vows. They’ve got a ceremony set up,” continues Gibbs.

“Are we going ahead with that, boss?”

“Yeah, DiNozzo. You are.”

“Perhaps, you should tell us all that you know about these people,” says Ziva, quelling some of Tony’s unrest on the subject. 

“All right, just, um, be prepared. Some of it’s pretty….weird, okay?” begins McGee. “Dolly…was born in Tel Aviv to an Israeli single mother and a Marine, a gunnery sergeant. The mother died as the result of a Hamas bombing when Dolly was twelve, so her elder half-brother tracked down said Marine, and she came to live with him and her elder half-sister in Alexandria until she married her first husband when she was eighteen.”

“First husband?” enquires Ziva.

“Mark’s her fourth.”

“Any connection?”

“All Marines. All murdered. All unsolved.”

“That can’t be a coincidence,” says Tony.

“Was she a person of interest in the previous cases as well?” asks Ziva.

“In the third, yes. EJ was the lead investigator; she saw a connection but couldn’t prove anything. The first three, however, were killed between six and ten months of being married.”

“Mark and Dolly had made it five years, though.”

“That’s a bit weird,” Tony states.

“McGee, check her financials around the times of the weddings and of their deaths.”

“All of them?”

“You think someone paid her to kill the others?” Tony asks Ziva.

“No,” she answers. “I think someone paid her to kill all four of them.”

“That’s why she’s dead, too,” thinks McGee aloud. “I mean, they were going to renew their vows, not to mention she’d just made an appointment to see a fertility counselor-”

“A fertility counselor?” Ziva asks.

“Yeah, a fertility counselor, they help-”

“I know what a fertility counselor is, McGee. When did she make the appointment for?”

“A week from now,” says Gibbs. “Why? You going?”

“Has she been to the counselor before?”

“Um, no. She hasn’t,” answers McGee.

“Then yes, I will go.”

Tony gives her a confused look.

“We are taking over their lives for as long as it takes to solve this case. There is no reason for me to cancel,” she explains, a little too forcefully for Tony’s enquiring expression to subside.

_**Wednesday, ~1130**_

“More pictures?” Tony asks, walking into the living room and finding Ziva there, setting picture frames on various surfaces. 

“Of the family, yes. The only ones I got up yesterday were from our honeymoon in Paris…” she declares, looking at him fondly, and he smiles. 

“Did you get that one I really liked, of you with the postcards?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Great, I love that one. Now, how did you get photographs of the family?” 

“Our family,” she corrects, showing him a photograph of her, Gibbs and Abby the previous Christmas.

“Ah, I see. The, uh, Gunnery Sergeant father and the elder half sister. Well played.”

Ziva nods.

“And McGee did say that Mark had two younger brothers,” she points to a photo of Tim, Tony and Jimmy that same Christmas.

“That was such a great party. You know, for someone who purports not to enjoy spending time with us outside of work, Gibbs has really great parties.”

“He also has divine taste in perfume,” Ziva adds.

“Yes, he does,” Tony corroborates. “He said he bought you the stuff you were wearing when you got back from Israel.”

Ziva chuckles.

“He did, and both you and Adam are quite fond of it.”

“Ah, Adam. Your Mossad friend.”

“He is not my Mossad friend…we have known each other since we were fourteen.”

“That why you stay at his place every time you go back to Israel?” questions Tony. 

“How did you know that?” cries Ziva.

“You told me,” Tony replies, put off by the shock in her voice.

“You slept with him, didn’t you?” he realizes, and even though he reminds himself that McGee and Gibbs are both listening, the anger seeps into his tone.

“Tony,” she shouts as he starts to stomp away, and she only stops him by putting a hand on his arm.

“I went to Israel to bury my father. It was a moment of weakness. I felt…alone.”

“Well, my Hebrew must not be as good as I thought, because I could have sworn that when I dropped you off at the airport I told you, you were not alone.”

“Yes, you did,” Ziva replies weakly, willing herself not to cry as she feels his gaze bore into her.

“Well, then,” says Tony declaratively. “We must have different interpretations.” 

He moves away from her and heads up the stairs, but she’s frozen in place. Tears begin to slide down her face a moment later, and her fingers drift to the wedding ring on her finger. She half-expects either Gibbs or McGee to comment, but neither does. 

**_Wednesday, ~1200_**

“You called, Abby?” Tim says quietly, slipping into the lab.

“They’re together,” she states as she turns around to face him.

“Tony and Ziva?” he asks, not surprised at her conclusion, and she furrows her brow at him.

“They just had a fight,” he explains.

“Like a fight fight or a married fight?”

“Married. Very, very, married…”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah. Wait, did they…” he pauses awkwardly, and Abby giggles.

“Did they what, Tim? Did my night shift consist of listening to our coworkers having sex? No. But, something definitely happened,” she declares, and plays an audio file from her computer, the transcript transcribed on the screen. Tim pays close attention for the minute it takes the conversation to play. 

“They just discussed getting married,” he says, a stunned look on his face.

“Yep…what was the fight about?”

“She slept with someone in Israel. When Tony realized that, he got angry.”

“As he has every right to be,” says Gibbs, striding into the lab, Caf-Pow in hand. “They’ve been together for months now.”

“What?” exclaim Tim and Abby.

“Unofficially, I think, but they do a terrible job at being discreet. They never plan out their cover stories.”

“But if you’ve known-” starts Tim, but Abby interrupts.

“Why haven’t you said anything?”

“To whom? Them? Or you?” Gibbs chuckles. “Nah, they don’t want me to know. I’ll give them that for now.”

“Thought you had a rule against that.”

Gibbs sighs.

“Made that rule when Jenny and I didn’t work out. I was jaded. Rule Fifty-one, kids,” he says, kissing Abby’s forehead and then walking back out.

“Rule fifty-one?” Tim asks Abby.

“Sometimes, you’re wrong.”

“Guess he thinks they’ve got a fighting chance.”

“Don’t we all?” 

Tim nods in agreement.

“After everything this team’s been dragged through, I certainly hope they do,” he says sadly. 

“Give them a couple hours. They’ll talk it through.”

“Tony’s listening to love songs. It’s kind of gross.”

Abby giggles. Her phone dings and a call from Ziva pops up. 

“What am I doing wrong, Abs?” says Ziva after Abby answers.

“Well, sleeping around wasn’t a good move,” Abby replies.

“McGee told you.”

“Yep.”

“Thought he would. What do I do now?”

“Apologize, for one thing. Don’t know how far it’ll get you, but you need to do it, Z.” 

“I know. There’s just...so much to say. No way to say it.”

“Too many ways to say it?”

“Something like that.”

“You’ve fought before, right?”

“Not like this. Not about this. About us.”

“Is it love, though? You and Tony, is it love?”

Tim’s given Abby an apologetic hug and left to continue looking through Dolly’s financials by the time Ziva responds, easily a few minutes later.

“Yes.”

“Then tell him that, dammit, Ziva. Tell him.” 

_**Wednesday, ~1400**_

Tony lies on the bed, moping - and telling himself that he shouldn’t be moping - and humming in time with the songs playing through the stereo. He’s put on a playlist Abby made him a couple months back, and while he starts wondering why half the songs are love songs, it fits the mood well.

“I am…sorry,” he hears Ziva meekly say from the doorway as one of the songs fades out.

“You’re sorry, well, that’s just fantastic. That solves everything, doesn’t it? Being sorry?” he practically shouts as he sits up in bed, pressing a button on the stereo remote and turning the music down considerably. 

“You know, we specifically said, Tony, that we were not official. We agreed we were not official, not public, not exclusive….months ago.”

“Yeah, months ago,” he corroborates, pushing himself off the bed and going closer to her. “Before the people at my coffee shop started recognizing you in the morning and you got an extra set of toiletries to leave in my bathroom. Before we went out to dinner with each other’s fathers when they came to town. Before we started buying each other expensive gifts and discussing the future in terms of "us"…A lot has happened in the past few months, Ziva, and I am so done with having to pretend that none of it matters.” 

“Gibbs does not even know yet.”

“Firstly, he’s Gibbs. We tried to be discreet and I’m pretty sure we failed, simply because he is Gibbs. Secondly, considering that we’re undercover, he knows now. So go ahead. Open the flood gates,” he shouts. “Because I am sick of standing here and loving you and having you act like it means nothing to you!” 

“Many men have told them they loved me, it has always meant nothing!” Ziva cries, and at this point she’s no longer holding back tears but shedding them. 

“And I suppose they all meant it, too?”

“I thought they did, Tony. With all my heart, I thought they did. And out of all of them, I can think of none who really did, not even my father. Shmiel, perhaps, and maybe Gibbs. The only people in the world whose love I have not once doubted are Tali and Abigail.”

“And yet, after everything, you doubt mine.”

“I do not know how to stop, Tony,” she says feebly. “I do not know how to be okay with…needing you. I have never needed anyone, I have never learned how to really trust anyone, let alone how to love them. I have never depended upon happy endings, and I have tried my hardest not to want them, and yet…”

Her mouth remains open as she strains for words, and Tony allows her to find them, pushing a few strands of hair behind her ears as she continues to cry.

“As foolish as it feels, I cannot stop wanting. Wanting…you, this, something…something truly permanent. But as much as I do want, I have been pushing it away for as long as I can remember. Every morning that I wake up thinking that maybe, just maybe, if I can wake up next to you for the rest of my life I might be happy…it is frightening. I have faced terrorists, and murderers, and my father, and Gibbs, but that…the dependence that I have come to have on being with you, it is the most frightening thing…that I have ever faced, Tony. And so I continue…to try to distance myself from that. Because every one of the three times now that you have told me you loved me, I have been immediately reminded that one day, you might not. Because if we wake up one morning, and you realize that you want better, that you deserve better…I will fall apart.”

Tony closes the distance between them, and kisses her. Her breathing hitches and she pulls him closer, and he moves his hands to her cheeks to wipe away her tears before entwining his fingers in her hair. 

“Then it’s a good thing that there is no better,” he whispers after they break apart, breathless.

Ziva smiles weakly, fiddling with Dolly’s wedding ring, but when she leans in to kiss him again, the doorbell rings. They both groan, but head down the stairs. 

“Are you wearing yoga pants?” Tony asks as they reach the bottom of the staircase, gently tapping her ass as he passes by her and heads into the kitchen to pour a glass of water.

“Yes, I am. I take it you like them?” she replies, continuing past the kitchen and over to the door.

“Oh, yeah,” he says, winking at her.

“Oh, no,” they hear McGee groan.

“Oh, yeah,” Tony says again, this time mostly to tease Tim. “You should come see. They look real nice. The pink tank top’s a nice touch, too.” Ziva looks at him scoldingly, and he chuckles.

“Ah, Trisha! Hello again!” Ziva says brightly as she opens the front door. Trisha greets Ziva, then gestures to the brunette at her side, who is holding the cupcakes Trisha had mentioned the day before. 

“This is my sister, Caroline. She and her family live down the block.”

“Wow, I wished my sister lived so close!”

“I don’t,” says Tony.

“Oh, hush,” Ziva reprimands, then welcomes Trisha and Caroline into the living room, bringing the basket of cupcakes over to the kitchen.

“Is that her?” Caroline asks, pointing at a photo of Ziva and Abby.

“Yes, yes. Abigail,” Ziva says, moving around the room and naming everyone in the photographs she’s just finished setting up. “That’s Jethro, our father…that’s Tim, my brother-in-law, and his girlfriend, Delilah…my father-in-law, Anthony and his father Donald, whom everyone calls Ducky…Mark and Tim’s brother, Jimmy with his wife Breena….”

“Your father’s a Marine?” asks Trisha, looking at a photograph Abby had snapped of Gibbs in his basement wearing one of his sweatshirts with the Corps logo.

“Gunnery Sergeant,” answers Tony, who then offers the women a drink. After he procures three glasses of Diet Coke and brings them over, he chuckles as Ziva pulls a set of coasters out of the drawer of the coffee table. He sneaks a peek at them as all three women take the glasses into their hands, and sees that they depict landmarks in various major cities. 

“Set of four from Target. Paris, Venice, Los Angeles, and even Tel Aviv. I wasn’t going to get any, but-"

“When you saw they had Tel Aviv, you absolutely had to,” he finishes, smiling. 

“Have you been to…Israel, isn’t it?” asks Trisha.

“Israel, yes. I was born and raised there, actually,” says Ziva.

“Oh, wow!”

“Yes, I…came to the US when I was twelve. My mother died, and so I came to live with my father and Abigail.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” says Trisha. “Our mother only died a couple of years ago. I could never imagine how hard that would be for a twelve-year-old.”

“It is all right. It has been difficult, yes, but I have survived. My American family has been very welcoming.”

“You certainly have lots of pictures of them. No wedding photos, though.”

“You know, I packed up all the photos we had up at the apartment, but for the life of me, I can’t find any from the wedding!” Ziva exclaims, moving to take a sip from her drink, but Trisha stops her, then beckons Tony into the living room.

“Grab your glass. Let’s toast! To…new beginnings, and lifelong loves. As my maid of honor toasted at my wedding…love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful and endures through every circumstance. Sexiness wears thin after a while, and beauty fades. But to be married to a man who makes you laugh every day, now that’s a real treat.” 

The four clink their glasses against each other and take sips.

“Well, you certainly do make me laugh,” Ziva tells Tony, laying a hand on his shoulder as he leans into her chair. He kisses her momentarily, then scrunches his nose up as his phone rings. 

“How much do you want to bet it’s…nope, it’s _my_ father. This should be interesting, but if he tells me he’s married again, I’m hanging up.”

Ziva giggles as she watches him leave to the backyard, then turns to the other women to explain, “his father has a disconcerting history with failing miserably at monogamy.”

“Well, it seems your husband’s overcome that, no?” says Trisha.

“How long have you been married?” Caroline asks.

“Coming up on five years this week,” replies Ziva proudly.

“Oh, how exciting! Are you going to do something special?” says Trisha.

“Most likely, but we’ve been too busy with the move to decide exactly what just yet.”

“Ah, well, you should have a party, if nothing else!” suggests Caroline. “Block parties are fantastic here. You should invite your family if they’re close! Trish and I could do all the planning, and you wouldn’t have to lift a pretty finger!”

“Oh, that would be so generous of you, but you really don’t need-”

“Oh, if you’d enjoy that, we insist!” pushes Trisha, and Ziva agrees.

“Okay, well, our anniversary is on Saturday, can you really plan a party in that time?”

“Oh, of course! That’s plenty of time! Now, do you prefer brunch or evening?”

“Evening, really.” 

“Red wine or white?”

“Red.”

“Anything you did at your wedding you’d like to replicate?”

“Nothing in particular, no. Thank you, really. It is too sweet of you guys to do this.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. We plan everything around here, down to carpools.”

“Speaking of which, we’ll need to leave soon to make sure the kids are picked up on time,” says Caroline. She finishes off her Diet Coke and stands up, then gives Ziva a gentle hug.

“Pleased to meet you. Even more pleased you’re married,” she says, and Trisha scoffs scoldingly as she herself hugs Ziva.

“Did you see her ass in these pants? She’s even prettier than you said she was.”

All three women laugh, though Ziva does it more out of obligation then anything else. The others stride over to the front door, and Tony walks in the back door just in time to wave to them as they leave.

“What did your father have to say?” Ziva asks as she returns to the kitchen, and Tony cocks his head at her.

“Apparently, he and his girlfriend are coming to town tomorrow…and he wants to stop by.”

“And you are opposed?”

“It’s my dad. I mean, I love him but…he’s my dad. And how many comments do you think he’s going to make about this?”

“About what?” she says, moving closer to him and laying her left hand on his chest, which he grabs with his own. “Our being married?”

“He’s not going to stop talking about it.”

“You two have barely stopped talking about it,” says Tim pointedly.

“We have an excuse, McGripe.”

“So does he,” says Gibbs.

“Ah, yes, my father-in-law, hello…how are you, Gibbs?”

“I’ll be better…when you stop talking.”

“Copy that.”

“Did McGee spill your coffee again, Abba?” says Ziva.

“No. But I’ve got some bad news for you, and you’re going to want to sit down for this.”

Tony keeps his hand entwined with Ziva’s as they walk over to the living room. He dramatically takes a seat in their large armchair and gestures for her to sit on his lap, and while she rolls her eyes, she reclines perpendicular to him, swinging her legs over the edge of the chair and leaning into his chest.

“Yes, Gibbs?” she asks once they’ve settled.

“Your hunch was just about right. Approximately two weeks before each of Dolly’s most recent three weddings, twenty-thousand dollars was transferred into her bank account.”

“Do we know who from?” 

“Yeah,” says McGee solemnly.

“And?” asks Tony.

“The account was the same one that Bodnar used to pay the hit man who killed Eli and Jackie.”

Ziva gasps, and a tear streaks down her cheek. Tony wipes it away, and she leans into him even closer.

“Wait, you said the most recent three?” he asks after a few seconds.

“Yeah, it looks like her first marriage was completely legit. The MO was different for that murder, too, even though it happened around the same time.”

“What did they do?” Ziva muses. “What did all of these people do to warrant this?”

“Nothing,” says Gibbs immediately. “Whatever they did doesn’t justify murder.”

They all pause. Tony kisses Ziva on her forehead, then wraps both his arms around her, hugging her tightly.

“Um, Gibbs, McGee?” says an unfamiliar feminine voice within earshot of the microphones worn by the agents, and both Ziva and Tony jump to ask who she is, but get no response.

“All four Marines were on a classified mission ten years ago which jeopardized Mossad secrets. It’s possible Bodnar is trying to cover his organization’s tracks.”

“It’s too weird. I mean, how does the MO fit that?” says McGee. 

“Do you have the file on the mission?” asks Ziva, and she hears Gibbs repeat the question to the woman, who replies that she’s been over it a hundred times. “Does it say anything about a Black Widow operative?”

“Oh my god,” the woman says in realization.

“Ziver, what’s Black Widow?”

“Other than a superhero-” begins Tony, but Ziva interrupts.

“A Black Widow operative is a seductress whose mission is to bring down powerful men. Sleep with them, get secrets, then kill them. Mossad has used them for years. Various organizations have tried to stop such operations, but given the deep cover nature of their work…”

“It’s been nearly impossible,” finishes the other woman.

“I’ve never heard of them killing Americans, though.”

“Agent David, this is top secret Mossad stuff, how do you-” 

“I was one, for a couple of years,” she says, standing up, her hands drifting to her hips as she furrows her brow. “My father resented my success with such missions, but I was quite effective nonetheless.”

“Your father? Oh my god, you’re- you’re related to Eli David.”

“As unfortunate as I sometimes find the fact, yes, I am. And you are?” 

“I’m sorry, my name is Ellie. Ellie Bishop. I’m an NSA analyst.”

“Vance called her in,” explains McGee.

“I see. Hello, Miss Bishop.”

“Mrs, actually, but um, hello.”

“So, Dolly was basically,” says Tony, “an Israeli sleeper Black Widow operative.”

“Until she fell in love. Decided to get out,” adds Ziva, and the air between all five speakers momentarily holds a pregnant pause.

“What do we do, boss? I mean, Bodnar knows us, and he’ll know NCIS would be investigating this…he finds out they’re living in this house, credit cards are being used, wedding vows renewed, there’s no way he won’t catch on.”

“That’s how we get him,” Ziva declares. “The longer we stay, the more chance he’ll realize someone’s taken their place. Someone will have to come, no?”

“So we just-” 

“Stay,” orders Gibbs. “Stay for as long as it takes to bring this bastard down.”

**_Wednesday, ~1900_**

“We’re going to get him, you know,” says Tony, reaching across the dinner table to hold Ziva’s hand. “He’s not going to get away with this. With any of this. With killing people. Let alone with hurting you this badly.”

Ziva laughs gently, a smile staying on her face even as she sobers. 

“Yes, I know,” she replies. “Considering who he has chosen to challenge, I know.”

“Good. Just…need to make sure you knew that.”

He scoops a spoonful of risotto into his mouth, priding himself on keeping eye contact as they both continue to eat. 

“Oh, god,” says McGee after a few moments, feigning a gagging noise. “I can hear you two looking at each other. It’s nauseating.”

“That is not possible, McGee,” states Ziva, though she chuckles at the remark. “Perhaps you are thinking of something else?”

“Your stomach, maybe? This is one of the best dinners I’ve had in a while," says Tony.

“You said that about the spaghetti last night.”

“It was true then, too. Who knew you were so good with Italian?”

“You did,” says Gibbs, slightly condescendingly.

“Yes, boss, I did. Thank you so much for your input,” Tony deadpans, earning him a teasing glare from Ziva.

“Do we really have to listen to all of this?” McGee asks Gibbs. “I mean, all they’ve done is flirt, make some new friends, argue, then flirt some more.”

“We do, McGee. It’s protocol,” says Gibbs amusedly, and McGee groans.

“You wrote a book in which we fell in love, and yet you cannot handle this, McGee?” says Ziva, pretending to chide him. “My sweet summer child.”

“Did you just- Tony, did she just quote-”

“I made her watch it,” Tony says proudly.

“A Lannister always pays his debts,” states Gibbs a moment later, and silence falls as the team grows wide-eyed.

“I’ve just realized how Gibbs is still alive…” Tony chuckles.

“Fire cannot kill a dragon?” suggests Ziva, and Tony nods.

“No, it cannot,” chimes Bishop, again in the background, and she hands a stack of papers to Gibbs, who looks at her inquiringly.

“Bodnar is definitely the killer. Or at least, the person who wanted them dead the most. I just handed you are a contract, drawn up years ago between Dorothy Indish, Eli David and Ilan Bodnar.”

“She was working for Mossad,” concludes Ziva, and Ellie confirms the claim. 

“Most definitely, yes. Although, it only says that she will pursue those men stated at a later date, after she’s received training; there’s nothing in here about who those men might be, let alone that they might be Marines. There’s no reason to think your father knew.”

“You do not need to comfort me, Mrs Bishop. Whether he did or did not know is irrelevant. Understood?”

“Yes, Agent David. Understood.”

“Good. Now what of the contingencies of the contract?”

“Come again?”

“What does it say is to happen if she refuses?”

“Divorce, according to these papers. If the marriage lasts longer than six months without Mossad gaining intel, the marriage is supposed to be annulled on the basis of supposed problems with citizenship.”

“That must have been some pretty good intel, to let them stay married for five years,” says Tony.

“Not good enough,” Ziva amends solemnly, and he squeezes her hand tighter before popping out of his seat.

_**“Cause it’s you and me and all of the people with nothing to do, nothing to lose”**_

“The radio’s playing our song, sweet cheeks,” he says, extending his hand to her. She laughs, but her voice comes out aggressive.

“Firstly, it is not the radio; it is a sappy playlist from Abby. Secondly, we do not have a song. Thirdly, I told you not to call me that.”

“Oh, semantics. Stand up and dance with me,” he demands with puppy dog eyes, and even as she scoffs at him, she places her hand in his and stands, letting him lead her into the living room.

_**“And it’s you and me and all of the people”**_

Tony slings one arm around Ziva’s backside, pulling her tight to his body and swaying to the song emanating from the stereo. Ziva wraps her arms around his neck and leans her head upon his shoulder.

“No, you know what,” Tony growls, reaching in his ear and taking out the earwig. Ziva, although she gives him a confused look, follows suit. “We’re doing this, for real.” 

He marches back to the kitchen, placing the devices on the counter then returning to the room. He again extends his hand, but rather than taking it she kisses him roughly, grabbing him by the collar of his white button-down. 

_**“And I don’t know why I can’t keep my eyes off of you”**_

“I have a theory,” says Bishop quietly, in response to the song she hears through the speaker, and Gibbs and McGee look at her pointedly. “What? I’ve been here two days and even I can see that they’re madly in love.”

_**“Something about you now, I can't quite figure out**_

_**Everything she does is beautiful, everything she does is right**_

_**Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do, nothing to lose**_

_**And it's you and me and all of the people**_

_**And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you**_

_**And me and all of the people with nothing to do and nothing to prove**_

_**And it's you and me and all of the people**_

_**And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you”**_

“Tony, I-” whispers Ziva shakily as she pulls away from their kiss, dropping her gaze to the floor until Tony touches her chin and urges her to look back up at him. “I love you.”

Realizing she’s about to cry again, he brings her hand to his lips and kisses her ring finger.

“I love you, too, Ziva. And I promise, there will not be a day of my life on which I do not.”

“We’re going to do this, aren’t we? For real, someday? This whole, as you said, shebang?”

“Thought you said you didn’t want a house in the suburbs,” says Tony lightly, and Ziva laughs.

“But if you’re speaking primarily of marriage, and perhaps a family, Agent David…I would love to.”

Ziva’s smile widens.

“As would I, Special Agent DiNozzo.”

“That’s Very Special Agent to you, and…did you just agree to marry me?”

“Only if you’ve agreed to ask.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”


End file.
